As the father of a toddler who has discovered books in a big way, I've spent more than my share of time the last few months learning by heart such kid classics as "The Very Hungry Caterpillar" and "The Very Busy Spider." They're lots of fun to read to my son, and he likes pointing out things in the pictures and naming them.

However, at the age of 20 months, he discovered a book I'd been dreading: "Hop On Pop," billed as "The simplest Seuss for youngest use." As I recalled, it was basically a nonsensical barrage of monosyllabic words designed to teach younguns to read while causing their caregivers' brains to melt into mush.

I was wrong. Very wrong. And in the process of realizing my error I have rediscovered the simple joy that Theodor Geisel created through his Dr. Seuss nom de plume.

Consider "Hop On Pop" as an example. Using primarily one- and two-syllable words, Geisel weaves a web of words that's as entertaining to read as it is to hear. Alliteration and rhythm on a level not seen outside classic poetry is put to work talking about funny creatures playing ball on a wall, a guy named Red and the titular Pop, among many other short topics.

My personal favorite Seuss work is "Green Eggs And Ham," but my son's current pick is "Dr. Seuss's ABC," which takes readers on a 50-plus page jaunt through the letters we all know and even occasionally use in the right order. Geisel's genius is in full flower, as is his refusal to be bound by what we mere mortals think of as the English language. Sure, "A" starts off tamely enough, with Aunt Annie's alligator, but by "F" we're talking about "four fluffy feathers on a Fiffer-feffer-feff."

At first read, a lot of what's in the book is nonsense-speak. "Oscar's only ostrich oiled an orange owl today" isn't going to enter the popular lexicon anytime soon. But take another look from the perspective of a little kid for whom the alphabet is just a meaningless jumble of symbols. The book treats the letters like toys, tossing them around and rebuilding them like linguistic Legos, and in the process it gets kids interested in doing the same. Rather than treating letters like some secret code, Geisel smears grape jelly on them and offers them to kids as something that belongs in their world.

And it works.

My son and I sit and read the book, and as we turn the pages he's picking out the letters before I start reading. Sure, part of it is rote memorization, but I can get tricky and go through the book out of order ... and I rarely catch him out.

I'm not trying to make him a prodigy. I had a dose of that when I was a kid and wouldn't wish it on anyone. But who's going to tell a kid NOT to read?

My New Job

I've decided I need a change of careers. It's not that I don't love you all and think of you as my close personal friends, it's just that I think I need to devote far more time to traveling and drinking lots of beer.

In that spirit, I've put in my application with the Sheraton folks for this job, which would make me the chief beer officer for the company. I'd spend my days traveling around the world sampling beer and being a general ambassador of alcoholic goodwill.

This is a natural for me. Everyone who knows me knows that the more alcohol I have, the more goodwill I exhibit. In fact, I often exhibit so much goodwill that I get a police escort. Sometimes, they even give me my very own secure room. Other times, they ask me to spread my goodwill to others in a place they call "The Tank." Every city seems to have one, and the people in them are invariably gloomy and downhearted. However, once I engage them in a lively round of Irish drinking songs, everyone's feeling better ... or they're trying to kill me. I get the two confused sometimes.

There's just one tiny problem with my plan: The job doesn't have a salary. With no money coming in, I'd have trouble paying the rent the nice officers ask for after they invite me to spend a night or two in their secure hotel. I don't know what problems that might cause, but I'd just as soon not find out.

So, I guess you're all stuck with me until my lottery numbers hit. How annoying.

Got Bigfoot in the back yard? Aliens in the pansies? Squirrels plotting in the basement? Drop me a line, anytime!